The Secret of Sherwood Forest
by reynard61
Summary: This "Secret of NIMH"/"Robin Hood" crossover was inspired by my love for the Don Bluth movie; epic adventure, romance and humor; and a certain picture...


THE SECRET OF SHERWOOD FOREST

by

Edwin Ross Quantrall

Part One: Darkness and Fury

Prologue

King Nicodemus was dead. Killed by the treachery of his adopted brother, 

Jenner, the Prince Regent. Jenner, a vain, selfish, overambitious lion, had 

planned his Sovereign's death to the last detail. The King had been 

overseeing the construction of a new section of the tower where the Crown 

Jewels are stored when they are not on view; both to remind the King of 

his obligation to his subjects, and to show the other animals the power of 

their King. At the precise moment that King Nicodemus had stepped into a 

predetermined area, called there by a "worker" who was actually one of 

Jenner's henchmen, several others used iron bars to topple a section of the 

wall that had been secretly weakened the night before. King Nicodemus, 

along with Sir Jonathan Brisbee, his most trusted advisor, was killed 

instantly.

Jenner, a firm believer in efficiency over compassion, immediately seized 

the throne and, in a record-fast ceremony, had himself crowned King. He 

then gave his subjects, still taken aback by the speed of events, a hard 

choice: "Serve the Glory of your new King with all your Heart!", meaning, of 

course, higher taxes and more labor in the fields to support the lifestyle to 

which Jenner and his friends had become accustomed, or have all of your 

property confiscated anyway and probably either end in one of His 

Majesty's debtors prisons or be exiled to the countryside. He also ordered 

his new Captain-of-the-Guard; a slovenly, ill-humored wolf named 

Sullivan; to hunt down and capture or, more preferably, kill the former 

Captain, a highly respected, much-loved fox named Justin.

Chapter One

"C'mon, m'lady. we have to leave NOW!" Justin said sternly, hoisting young 

Timothy Brisbee into his arms. A driving rain, along with white-hot 

lightning and the booming peals of accompanying thunder, would serve to 

cover their escape from Londontown only temporarily. Lady Marian 

Brisbee, widow of Sir Jonathan, tearfully nodded and finished tying her 

cape. A beautiful vixen, her manner both at court and among the common 

people was much admired and her smile was said to light up whatever 

room she entered. But now, mourning the death of her husband and 

dressed in some old, threadbare traveling clothes that Justin had brought 

with him to disguise their hasty escape, her beauty, while still much in 

evidence, was also much subdued.

Her children, a young rabbit family that she and Jonathan had adopted 

from the King's Orphanage only months before, were also dressed for the 

trip in a similar manner. Theresa and Martin, the oldest, were confused but 

realized the gravity of the situation and remained, for the most part, calm. 

Youngest daughter Cynthia, however, was on the verge of hysterics, first 

demanding to know where her father was and when he would be arriving 

home, then, when Justin finally broke the news to them as gently as he 

knew how, bursting into tears and running to hide under her bed. It took 

the better part of an hour to calm her down enough to get her ready to 

leave, but no one knew how long this would last. Timothy, the youngest of 

all the children, was also calm, almost strangely so. He had just recovered 

from a life-threateningly intense bout with pneumonia, a feat which had 

had the court-physician scratching his head. But something had happened 

to Timothy in that time. Where he had once been bubbly, playful and 

carefree; he was now more shy and withdrawn, sometimes waking, 

terrified and soaked in sweat, in the middle of the night screaming that 

monsters were after him.

After a last longing look to make sure that she had left nothing that would 

give Sullivan any clue as to their whereabouts, Lady Brisbee blew out the 

last candle and stepped out of the door of her manor, not bothering to lock 

it, and into the rain and an uncertain future. Justin was waiting under the 

light of a lantern which was hanging from a pole on a small handcart which 

held the few meager possessions that Justin had instructed them to bring 

as well as Timothy and Cynthia, both of whom shivered miserably as they 

huddled under a rain-soaked canvas tarp, with Martin and Theresa, who 

were lost in their own thoughts. At a nod from Justin, they began to trudge 

along the muddy streets.

No one spoke as Justin led them away from the City. The rain poured for 

several more hours but, gradually, began to taper off. Lady Brisbee could 

see that Timothy and Cynthia had crawled to the middle of the cart and 

fallen asleep in each others arms under their ersatz blanket. Martin; a 

bright lad who shared his father's courage and curiosity, sometimes to the 

point of recklessness; dutifully kept up the punishing pace that Justin had 

set, a range of emotions playing across his face, enhanced by the shadows 

from the dim light of the lantern no matter how hard he tried to hide 

them. Theresa, a usually fun-loving but practical-minded girl, was visibly 

tiring and had a death-grip on the cart as she grimly plodded along, tears 

of exhaustion streaming from her eyes. Brisbee had cried silently to herself 

most of the night, her tears washed by those of Nature as both mourned 

the untimely death of a loving husband and father. But, like the rain, her 

tears were spent and the task of supporting the family now rested, as 

uneasily as she hoped that the Crown of Britain rested on Jenner's head, on 

her shoulders.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Justin suddenly stopped and rested 

the cart on its supports so quickly that Theresa nearly collided with it. 

Cynthia awoke and timidly asked, "What happened? Why have we 

stopped?" Theresa, meanwhile, collapsed to her knees and crawled to lean 

against one of the cart's wheels.

Justin ducked out from behind the push-handle and said, "Rest here for a 

few minutes. I have to talk with your mother." With a slight nod he 

indicated the direction that they were to walk.

A few minutes later, when they were out of earshot of the children, Justin 

stopped and pulled an object out of a pocket of his vest and held it up to 

the first rays of dawn that were beginning to peer over the horizon. Lady 

Brisbee recognized it immediately. It was a round, blood-red stone, about 

the size of Cynthia's fist, set into aplain gold backing attached to a thin gold 

chain. An inscription on the reverse read "You can Unlock any Door if You 

only have the Key." It had been given to Jonathan when he had been 

appointed Chancellor by King Nicodemus several years ago. "You know 

about the legends behind the history of this." Justin stated, his voice 

betraying a hint of concern and...something else...fear? Lady Brisbee 

nodded, taken aback by this. Justin regarded the Amulet in the ever-so-

slowly increasing sunlight. "I've always known about them too," He said 

almost reverently, talking more to himself than Lady Brisbee. "but I never 

really believed them."

"And you do now?" Brisbee asked, worried that the events of the past 

several hours were taking their toll on Justin's rational thought processes.

A part of his resolve collapsed as he closed his eyes and sadly shook his 

head, a tear running down his face until it was soaked up by fur. "No." he 

murmured. Then he opened his eyes, which burned with an intensity that 

she had never seen before. "But Jenner does. Andso do many of the other 

animals. That's why you and the children are in such danger. If Jenner 

should ever get his paws on this amulet he could use it to bend the Nation 

to his will." He took one of Lady Brisbee's paws and gently placed the 

amulet into it. "The only safe place in the Kingdom right now is the forests 

of Sherwood in my birthplace, Nottinghamshire." He pointed down the road 

in the direction that they had been walking. "I know that you and the 

children are tired, but you need to keep going as quickly as possible until 

you see a small branch-path on the right-hand side of the road next to a 

low stone wall. Take that path into the forest; it's narrow, dark and 

frightening, but that's the whole idea; and follow it until you see a house 

on the edge of a small clearing. Dr. Ages should be somewhere about, he 

never wanders very far from his laboratory. Don't be surprised if he 

already knows you. Tell him what has happened, although I suspect he 

may already have heard, and tell him that I will try to be back as soon as 

I'm able."

Lady Brisbee, not sure of what to make of his instructions, nodded 

hesitantly and asked. "But where are you going? If Jenner is looking for 

you, wouldn't it be safer to come to this Dr. Ages with us?"

Justin shook his head. "Safer for me, maybe, and then only in the short run. 

But if I present myself as a more convenient prey, then perhaps the 

hounds will ignore the more important scent. Besides, I have an important 

task to perform back in Londontown." He added, his voice dripping with 

dark fury. He then gently took her by the shoulders and gazed intently 

into her eyes. "You hold the future of Britain and the freedom of her 

subjects in your paws." He whispered. "Jonathan's love for you, I can see, 

was not misplaced and, if you keep your chin up, all will turn out well." He 

then turned and walked back to the hand-cart. By now, Timothy was also 

awake and the sun was sending its first sliver of full light over the horizon. 

Martin had found some straight branches and some lengths of rope and, 

with the tarp, rigged a tent that covered the bed of the cart, where Theresa 

was now asleep. Justin complimented the young Brisbee on his 

resourcefulness as he reached in and, carefully so as not to wake Theresa, 

removed his sword and scabbard, bow, quiver and arrows. Martin beamed 

proudly as he thanked the fox, who was already marching toward the City.

Chapter Two

"I trust you bring me some positive news?" The figure at the window 

intoned without turning around.

Sullivan prayed inwardly, glad that he was already on bended knee. "I'm 

afraid not, Your Majesty. Both the Brisbee family and the Amulet were 

gone by the time we got there. Someone even forgot to lock the front door. 

We were able to just walk right in."

"Justin, I suppose." Said the figure morosely. "His way of rubbing my face 

in the fact that he's one step ahead of me." The figure then turned and 

walked toward a door that led to the courtyard overlook. Sullivan signaled 

the soldiers with him to remain where they were and followed.

When they reached the overlook, Sullivan cleared his throat and said in his 

most soldierly voice, "Your Majesty, permission to speak freely?" Jenner, 

chin resting on interlocked fingers as he leaned on the stone wall, gave a 

curt nod.

"Sir," Sullivan began, hoping that Jenner understood that he was trying to 

talk soldier-to-soldier rather than Officer to King. "You now have what we 

were all after. You now wear the Crown and sit on the Throne of Britain. 

What difference does it make whether or not you wear some worthless red 

stone around your neck when you have a whole nation under your feet?"

"Sullivan, do you know the legends behind that 'worthless red stone'; as 

you call it?" Jenner asked, his voice cold and distant.

"Of course, Sir," Sullivan replied. "Every child in the realm grows up with 

those stories. They've been passed down for longer than this Kingdom has 

existed."

"Yes, my friend, and do you know why that is so?" Jenner turned and 

stared hard into Sullivan's eyes, an almost demonic cast in his own. 

"Because those stories; those legends, ancient as they are; are true!" The 

new King began pacing agitatedly along the walkway. "All those battles 

won, all those armies defeated by heros who had only one thing in 

common: they all wore that Amulet!" Seeing that his acolyte was 

unconvinced, he continued on a different tack. "Besides, whoever possesses 

that Amulet has the respect of all of Britain. I'm under no illusion that I've 

started my rule with clean paws. Rumors as to the circumstances of my 

dear adopted brother's death are already spreading through the city like 

wildfire. As with all rumors there will be that few who, after the fires of 

half-truth and lies are extinguished, will keep a few embers of fact 

burning, always ready to fan them into flames of scandal at the first 

opportunity." He pounded his fist on the stone railing. "This I cannot abide 

with! If, with or without the stone, the people refuse to obey my will as 

their legitimate Sovereign, then they will be punished!" Jenner then 

stepped to Sullivan's side and whispered conspiratorially, "If, however, the 

flames that I've described can be stopped before they can do any major 

damage, who knows? The one who most diligently stamps out the fires 

would certainly be deserving of certain, shall we say, benefits?"

Sullivan, a follower of Jenner since becoming one of his guards many years 

ago, had learned quite well that, while vain and power-hungry, Jenner had 

a certain perverse sense of loyalty, believing that not only could you, for 

the right price, buy both happiness and friends, but, for just a bit more, 

you could also keep them. He nodded his understanding.

"Excellent!" Jenner smiled, baring his fangs; a sign that Sullivan knew 

meant that failure on his part meant the most dire of consequences. "A 

most dangerous flame burns even as we speak. I suggest that you find it 

and put it out as soon as possible." Jenner then quickly turned his back on 

Sullivan, his black cape billowing behind him, and strode through the 

doorway, leaving Sullivan to figure out how he was going to deal with a 

wily fox named Justin.

Chapter Three

In the next several hours after Justin had left the Brisbee family to 

continue their journey, Lady Marian; with the help of Martin or a now 

somewhat stronger Theresa; had struggled to pull the cart as far as she 

could throughout the day. Justin had made it look so easy. "But then," She 

thought to herself, "He is a well-trained and disciplined professional soldier 

suited to a life of physical exertion. I, on the other paw, am...was a 

noblewoman of the court of King Nicodemus. The only work that I was 

expected to do was to administer the royal household. Now I'm a hungry, 

penniless, tired widow with four children to support." She sighed to 

herself, deciding that fate, indeed, was a sometimes cruel, sometimes 

benevolent, force.

A sudden noise from the trees of the forest surrounding them broke into 

her thoughts. She could have sworn she had heard something, a voice 

maybe? But the children gave no indication of having heard anything. 

Martin was still at her side doing his level best to make his mother's labor 

easier to bear. Theresa, though still weak from exhaustion, was at the rear, 

pushing the cart. Timothy and Cynthia were walking ahead, tossing stones 

and small pebbles out of the way of where they thought the cart's wheels 

would roll.

There it was again! Much closer too! "Could it be Highwaymen?" She 

thought to herself. King Nicodemus had rid all but the most isolated areas 

of his realm of these robbers. But had word of his death traveled so fast 

among them that they now felt safe to resume their nefarious activities? 

And in broad daylight, no less! She dreaded the thought of having to deal 

with such cutthroats, even though Justin had let them pack only the most 

necessary items and making her leave her most valuable possessions at 

the manor. "Calm down," She chided herself. "Or you'll scare yourself silly!"

SNAP! This time even the children had heard it! Martin and Theresa looked 

up in surprise toward where they thought the sound had come from. 

Cynthia was already running headlong into the forest where Timothy was 

pointing. "No!" Lady Brisbee shouted instinctively. But the little rabbit was 

too far away to hear her call and too eager and curious to be aware of the 

potential danger.

"Martin, stay with the cart!" She ordered, ducking under the pushbar. 

"Theresa! Timothy! Did you see where she went?"

"I can still see her, mother!" Timothy shouted excitedly. Lady Brisbee 

plunged into the thick bramble that was the border of road and forest. She 

too could see her youngest daughter, who seemed to be on her haunches 

talking to someone. Thorns and barbs of various types tore into or stuck to 

her cape and the fur of her legs and tail, stinging as they were forced to 

release her from their futile grip. "Oh, to be a small child again; able to 

wriggle through all that and come out unscathed." She thought wistfully. 

She could now see that Cynthia was leaning over the edge of a large, deep 

pit. Seconds later, she arrived at the same spot and swept the small rabbit 

into her arms. "Oh, Cynthia, honey, please, please! Don't ever run into the 

forest like that again! You frightened Mommy so much!" She pleaded, 

almost in tears. The look of remorse that came to the young rabbit's face 

was genuine, but instantly changed to one of glee as she pointed into the 

hole. "Mommy, Mommy! There's someone in there! He says he's trapped!"

Lady Brisbee, her eyes more accustomed to the darkness, could indeed see 

a figure at the bottom of the void. "Hello?" she asked hesitantly. "Is 

everything all right?" A humor-filled voice floated up. "Well, other than 

being forced to sleep in this mud-pit half the night. Yeah, I suppose 

everything's pretty dandy!" At that moment, Theresa arrived, holding the 

glowing lantern. The voice in the hole, they saw, belonged to a young 

rooster who, apparently true to his word, was covered comb to spurs with 

layers of mud.

After helping the rooster, who introduced himself with a flourish as 

Jeremy O'Dale, out of the hole, he led them to a nearby creek to wash the 

mud off of his clothes.

"How did you end up in there?" Theresa asked as she wrung out his shirt.

"Well, it's an odd thing!" Jeremy, who had wrapped himself in a blanket 

that Lady Brisbee gave him, said. "I was in the town of Foth'ringshay 

playing for my supper at the inn." He indicated a lute that lay next to him. 

"I had collected several crown over what I needed to eat and was going to 

spend the night; my first in an actual warm bed in many a week, mind 

you; when all of a sudden the Sheriff of Nottingham and a bunch of his 

Deputies comes swaggering into the place and demands a meal that instant. 

Well, the innkeeper tells him that others are waiting to be served and he 

too'll just have to wait. The Sheriff, some twit of a bear whose men called 

him Brutus, just walks over to the poor bloke and lets him have it across 

the snout! Then he tells every one that he's looking for a lady fox and her 

kids, rabbits if you can believe that!" Jeremy then noticed the shocked 

looks on the faces looking down on him. "What!" he asked, confused. 

"What'd I..." Then his eyes bulged with realization. "You!" he shouted. 

"You're the ones he's looking for!" The rooster then began to laugh 

uproariously. Lady Brisbee and the children, now themselves confused, 

looked at each other, mouths agape, and shrugged, unsure what to make of 

this. As the laughter subsided to a fit of uncontrolled giggling, Theresa 

regarded Jeremy skeptically and said, "Oh great! The local law is after our 

heads and we stopped to rescue this looney!"

"Theresa! Mind your manners, young lady!" Scolded Lady Brisbee, 

embarrassed by her daughters outburst. "Yes, min' your manners!" Cynthia 

piped in.

"Oh, that's okay!" Jeremy said, a bemused cackle in his voice. "Anyway," He 

continued, "I walked over to this big bushel of fur and told him that he had 

no business hitting defenseless innkeepers and that he was so fat that 

even if he saw a lady fox with kids, he'd be lucky to be able to actually 

catch them. Well, as you might be able to guess, those few moments of 

pleasure had to be paid for with a few hours of pain. He and his Deputies 

dragged me here to this hole and threw me in. luckily they didn't damage 

my source of income."

Lady Brisbee smiled at Jeremy's good humor, but inside she was in 

turmoil. That the Kings Guard was after the Amulet was bad enough, but 

she could be reasonably sure that even Jenner would not dare try to harm 

her. But the Sheriffs of the various Shires, except in matters pertaining to 

the collection of the King's revenues, were pretty much a law unto 

themselves and while the majority were conscientious about their duties to 

their constituents, others saw the office as a way to enrich themselves 

because they were entitled to the excess revenues from seized land or 

properties. King Nicodemus had tried to reform this state of affairs, but the 

changes that were being planned had died with him.

"By the way," The rooster said off-handedly. "For whom did I have the 

honor of taking last nights bath?"

"I'm La..." She hesitated for a moment. All that this wandering musician 

knew for the moment was that she and the children were wanted by the 

local Sheriff for some unknown reason and seemed sympathetic to their 

plight. And while it might later become necessary to divulge why she was 

on the run, she decided that Jeremy O'Dale could not lie about that which 

he didn't know. "I'm Mrs. Brisbee." She stated calmly. When the children 

gave her a collective questioning look, she returned it with one that said, 

"Go with me on this one and I'll explain later."

After introducing her children, Mrs. Brisbee asked Jeremy where he was 

going next. "Not to Foth'ringshay, that's for sure!" He replied with a 

chuckle. "I could head South to Londontown or West to Darby, or even 

Coventry. I haven't been that way in several months."

This disappointed Mrs. Brisbee. "Before you go then, could you tell us how 

much longer it will be before we find a narrow path next to a low stone 

wall to the right side of the road?"

"You mean Ol' Doc Ages place?" Jeremy asked, perplexed.

"You know him?" Mrs. Brisbee asked, also surprised.

"He's let me sleep in his hayloft once or twice, so long as I promised not to 

sing for him." He chuckled again, emphasizing the "not".

"Would you be willing to take us at least that far?" she ventured, 

heartened by Jeremy's knowlege of the area.

"Sure!" He answered. "I don't have anything to otherwise occupy my time 

and even a night in a hayloft is a good step up from one in a mudhole."

Mrs. Brisbee thanked him and since his clothes; a collection of once classy, 

but now out-dated and rather unfashionable, formal wear; were now dry, 

she had the children repack the cart. As Martin was about to take his place 

at his mothers side behind the pushbar, Jeremy said, "Now there, young 

lad, you look a bit tired to these observant eyes. I'll help your mother with 

the cart while you get some rest, okay?" Martin looked first at Mrs. Brisbee 

then, longingly, at the cart. Mrs. Brisbee nodded her approval and thanked 

the rooster. "No problem, Ma'am." He said as the rabbit climbed into the 

cart. With that, he nodded in the direction of Dr. Ages house and, picking 

up the cart's pushbar, started off.


End file.
